I recently learned about binturongs, ridiculous animals which look like a hybrid of roughly five different cute critters, galumph about the place, and smell suspiciously like popcorn1. Thank you to the algorithmic Youtube overlords for blessing me with the above video.
More on binturongs:
In keeping with the spirit of the last post, i’ve done a wee bit of autumn cleaning on the blog’s theme, including a dingus showing the phase of the moon at the time of each post.
I’ve always been enamoured with the idea of the website as a living, breathing place; not just a dumb, static object, like a book or a reel of film, but, well, a site, like an ancient oak that bears the scars of all who’ve scrawled their loved ones’ initials on it.
For The Satyrs’ Forest, i’ve been slacking on that ideal. Sure, we have our annual tradition, and i’d change the theme to be more orange in autumn sometimes if i could be bothered, but never anything automatic — something that could outlive me if i dropped dead tomorrow. (Continuing with the forest metaphor, i’d toyed with the idea of a series of annual rings that would grow into different shapes depending on how active i was in updating the site, but quickly realised that my database just wasn’t set up to support that kind of thing.)
I had the itch to tinker with the home page’s design anyway, so i decided to finally implement something to solidly ground this site in the real world: seasonal themes! In daytime, there are four themes, one each for spring, summer, autumn, and winter, which shift throughout the year like an actual forest. There are also three complementing darker themes (spring and summer share one) which activate when it’s night here in Northumbria. That last part was important to me: i wanted the Forest to be like a real place, one that could, of course, be nowhere else but the actual location of the server, not just an ætherial construct where “night” happens whenever it’s past six on the viewer’s clock.
Finally, for the real old-heads, the “Modus anciens” theme replicates the look of the site as it appeared in 2020, when i was just starting out. I’ve always loved those neon purples, even if they don’t fit the arboreal metaphor, and it’s a joy to bring them back.
Bought some blu-rays. My transformation into a Physical Media Guy is nearing completion.
The Witchfinder-General is the head of His Majesty’s Finder Corps (known as HM Witchfinder Corps until 1952), the undisclosed agency tasked with classifying occult and otherwise anomalous phenomena in the UK and keeping their occurrence a secret from the general public.
1896–1900: W. B. Yeats
1900–1909: [Round Table gestalt leadership]
Yeats was discharged from his position in 1900 after his devastating loss in a magickal confrontation with Aleister Crowley, at that time HMWC’s enemy number one.
1909–1922: Francis Younghusband
1922–1935: Arthur Machen
1935–1948: Peter Fleming
Fleming’s management of the Witchfinder Corps during wartime included such feats as successfully placing an anti-Nazi geas around the island of Great Britain and the placement of a firewall in the collective unconscious against intrusions from German occultists, but his handling of the home front is more controversial, particularly when it came to the nascent public revival of the witch-cults. Supporters argue Wicca was successfully defanged as a threat to the public gestalt, but on the other hand, he still let the knowledge of the New Forest coven leak to the public in violation of all Corps protocols.
1948–1961: Ralph Izzard
1961–1974: Christopher Lee
1974–1987: John Bingham, Lord Lucan
Lord Lucan’s appointment befuddled many in the Corps, as he had no prior occult experience, and he immediately broke convention by ending his public life entirely rather than keep up a masquerade. Still, he ended up a much-needed reformer for the agency, finally lifting the ban on non-Abrahamic theurgy and increasing coöperation with overseas counterparts, such as David Lynch’s U.S. Occult Affairs Office and Dan Aykroyd’s Royal Canadian Witchfinders-General.
1987–1992: Marianne Martindale
1992–2000: [Round Table gestalt leadership]
Martindale’s thirteen-year term came to a swift end only five years in after it was revealed that she had acted as a double agent on behalf of St. Bride’s School, an Irish occult group which aimed to found its own cyber-republic separate from any temporal countries. The interregnum that followed was a disaster for HMFC; most infamously, the information firewall against Nick Land’s CCRU broke down, causing thousands in Silicon Valley to be infected by dangerous infohazards. The USOAO still hasn’t forgiven us.
2000–2013: Alan Moore
2013–present: John Constantine
John Constantine perhaps has the greatest cover story of all: officially, he is entirely fictional. A creation of his predecessor Alan Moore, he met him in a sandwich shop in 1993, and slowly continued to slip into consensus reality thereafter. Though those like him are ostensibly the very thing HMFC is meant to combat, Constantine proved a useful ally, and his semi-fictional nature has been nothing but an asset during his term as Witchfinder-General, allowing him to neutralise hyperstitions before they can even dream of breaking containment. That said, his time in office has been marred by instutitional rot in the USOAO, with many fearing he is not doing, or cannot do, enough to prevent the rising tide of “meme magic” and metaphysical civil warfare from crossing the pond.
As someone learning Ancient Greek, the modern iteration of the tongue often strikes me as far more similar to… i don’t know, Italian or something, having been shaped by millennia of loanwords and the influence of neighbouring peoples. So, what if it was just like Italian or something? Presenting: Elinicá.
An example of a plain, encyclopædic text:
O Constaddínos Caváfis itan Elinas piitís o opíos theoríte enas apó tus simaddicoterus
piités tis sinchronis epocís. Genithique qu’ezise s’tin Alecsandria, tis Egíptu j’aftó
qui’anafereti sichná os o Alecsandrinós. Dimosiefse piimata, enó decádes pareminan os
proscedia. Ta simaddicotera ergha tu, ta dimiurgise metá ta 40 eti.
And of a more conversational one:
— Ma jatí aftó meghálo misticó? I anthropi ine exipni; borún na to djaciristún.
— To atomo ine exipno. I anthropi omos ine anoita, panicovlita, epiquindina zoa, que to xeris.
Prin apó cilya peddacosia chronya, oli ixeran oti i Gi itan to queddro tu sibaddos. Prin apó
peddacosia chronya, oli ixeran oti i Gi itan epipedi, que prin apó decapédde lepta ixeres oti i
anthropi itan moni s’aftón ton planíti. [Anastenázi] Fantásu ti tha xeris avrio.
A brief prescript: if you want some links that were too good for this roundup (not to shatter the illusion too much…), check out the nine new ones on the main site’s linkroll!
Just found out that instead of “XD”, Hebrew speakers use “םא”. This is revolutionary.
The ten dead people i would most want to have a discussion with over a cup of tea,1 in no particular order:
Honourable mentions go to Arthur C. Clarke, Christopher Lee, Gemistus Plethon, and J. R. R. Tolkien.
…And three alive people who are historically interesting enough that they’ll likely join the ten above after they pass:
As comic relief, he’s great, and should obviously be played by Tim Robinson in the inevitable event of a remake. As a person, fuuuuuck this guy. A life is hanging in the balance and you just want to watch some Yankee cricket? You fold under pressure, rather than actually reëvaluating your beliefs? Kill yourself, my man.
There is nothing but hate behind those eyes. A wretched soul who is rightfully told to sit down and shut up. #CancelAngryManNumberTen
Detestable for the same reason as Angry Man #7. A doormat with no opinions of his own whose soul is carried away with the current. But at least he’s affable.
The boringest Angry Man. Why is he here? We needed twelve of them, i guess.
The kind of man who turns on Fox News, sees his son send a post-ironic femboy meme in the family group chat, and immediately decides every transgender person should be rounded up. Not a dyed-in-the-wool bigot like Angry Man #10, but no nicer to be around. All we can do is pray that someone turns on the parental controls on his TV and switches him over to MSNBC.
He treats the case as frivolously as Angry Man #7, but you know what? I can’t help but like him. He just wants to show off his cereal box slogans and play noughts and crosses.
“Continental Europeans who moved to an Anglophone country” are God’s chosen people.
Poor fella’s just tryin’ ta dee his job and he’s stuck in the room with all these colourful characters. I can’t help but feel bad for him.
The most mysterious Angry Man. He’s of the same ethnicity as the descendant, and he knows how switch-blades work, but otherwise… who knows? What mysteries lie in his past? We’ll never find out, but he seems like a cool dude.
“You know, i would have voted for FDR a fifth time if i could.” The greatest bleeding-heart liberal in cinematic history. His heroism made a tear come out of my eye that then turned into a dove of peace and flew away. But just as admirable as those who lead the charge are those who can admit their faults — which leads us to…
Hell yes. Unlike Angry Men #3 and #10, #4 doesn’t vote “guilty” because of prejudice. He sincerely believes that the boy did it, and, once every argument is dismantled, he quietly accedes and admits defeat rather than loudly crashing out. Also spends the most time aura-farming out of any of the Angry Men.
The coolest old man in the universe. The Paddington Bear of the 12AMCU, able to disarm anyone with a hard stare. Somehow the only person in the room who knows how glasses work. 10/10 Angry Man-ing.
I’m sure you’ve all seen WPlace.live by now, which has become an unexpected internet sensation, and it was on my list when i first found it (back when it seemed to be used only by Brazilians)… but, eh, it’s lost its luster. Too much spam, too much brigading. There was a nice period at the start where everyone in the Holy Land was keeping to their side of the Green Line. Tel Aviv, Nazareth, Gaza, Jerusalem, Bethlehem — all beautiful. Now it’s just a giant mess. Anyway! Links.
I don’t know whose dumbfuck crawler is responsible for this, but whoever it is, can you please calm down? I welcome robotic visitors1, but they don’t have to be so hyperactive. I promise you the data will still be there tomorrow.
Edit: The tidal wave has stopped, but i have started logging bots’ User-Agents
just in case whatever that thing is comes back. I hope they’re happy with themselves.
Edit #2: Well, that was quick. They’re back… and they’re not even using a “bot”
User-Agent to identify themselves! That’s just bad manners.
Edit #3: I’ve implemented a basic rate-limiting system with a limit fast enough that it won’t affect my biological readers. Fingers crossed.
Sit tibi terra levis, Jacobe Lovell. I’ll be busting out my copy of Lost Moon in his honour.
Last time on “Stuff i watched recently”, i covered four thriller films. Today, we’re back to our normal farrago of assorted genres — and i must warn you, it’s been quite a while since i’ve seen some of these, starting with…
The first act of this presumably final entry in the Tom Cruise Tries to Kill Himself series consists of a clumsy, torpid recap of every attempted Cruisicide so far, interspersed with clips from past films1 and people talking up Tom Cruise as The Most Important Boy In The World. But, as soon as Tramell Tillman’s beautiful visage shines upon the Imax screen, we’re shocked back to life, and the ensuing setpiece — a palm-sweating scamper aboard a collapsing nuclear submarine — may well be the best, tensest, and invigoratingest this franchise has ever brought us. (7/10)
Never doubt James Cameron. (9/10)
Fight Club, but boring. The most 1996 movie to ever 1996. It’s fine. (5/10)
Wes Craven dares to ask the unaskable: What if, in Halloween, Jamie Lee Curtis wasn’t a complete imbecile who can’t even hold onto a knife for more than five seconds? Nancy Thompson enters into the pantheon of sensible horror protagonists by doing everything right, up to and including hiding a second instant coffee maker underneath her bed.
The special effects are the star of the show here, from spandex walls to bottomless tubs, lifting up some shonky performances (Johnny Depp acts circles around everyone else in every scene he’s in) and a truly abysmal ending. With a premise like that, it’s not hard to see why it became such a sensation. (6/10)
“Every species can smell its own extinction. The last ones left won’t have a pretty time with it. In ten years, maybe less, the human race will just be a bedtime story for their children. A myth, nothing more.”
John Carpenter knocks it out of the park again in this bizarre, prescient downwards spiral of metafictional cosmic horror. In an era of deepfakes, diffusion, and dripped-out popes, it can seem as though fiction and reality are merging. What happens when we as a society can no longer tell the difference? If you believe In the Mouth of Madness… it’s not going to be pretty. (10/10)
“Hello, Alex. It’s Danny. The studio wants to make another 28 Days Later sequel. Any ideas?”
“Hm… What if we made it a touching coming-of-age story about coming to terms with the inevitability of death in a working-class North Eastern family?”
“What?”
“We can make it about Brexit too if you’d like. An island of strangers, and all that.”
“…”
“…”
“…I’ll get Young Fathers on the line.”
“Good, good. You’ve still got that pink Motorola Razr you shot the first one on, right?”
“Afraid not. I’ll have to use an iPhone instead.”
“Ah. Shame.”
“Shame.”
(8½/10)
The town crier came up to me and shouted, “Hear ye, hear ye! Superhero movies are good again!” So i gave James Gunn’s Superman a shot, and what do you know? He was right.
Mr Gunn kicks off his newborn cinematic universe by cannonballing straight into the deep end. The Superman experience is akin to starting a long-running comic at issue #387, in the best way possible. Superman has already been doing his thing for three years. Lex Luthor has a pocket dimension and Vladjamin Putinyahu has promised him his own personal settlement in Gazkraine.2 Mr Terrific is there. Who’s Mr Terrific? The greatest character ever, that’s who. Absolute cinema. (8/10)
I forgot my Itch.io password in the move over from Windows to Linux, so the recent Steam sale was my first time in ages playing the GOAT platformer. I’m proud to say i finally beat The Farewell (and got the moon berry) legit. Fuck that comb room. (10/10)
Fun little flick! Every town in Britain has its own Morell. (6/10)
Yeesh. I wanted to like this — “autistic robots” is a favourite trope of mine — but my sense of humour and its just did not get along. A great example of how every show on Apple TV+ just looks fake. (3/10)
There was a moment when i thought this was going to deliver the most singularly insane twist ending in cinematic history. It didn’t. So what we’re left with is a miserable film about horrible fundamentalists kidnapping horrible college students and going up against a horrible ATF agent. Kill me now. (2/10)
What a palate cleanser! Danny Boyle’s first film gives him the template he’d perfect with Trainspotting soon after. Thumping techno tunes, a perfect mix of comedy and tragedy, and Ewan McGregor’s boyish face. (Plus, an incongruously spacious sitcom apartment.) You simply must see this, if only for the novelty of Christopher Eccleston with a full head of hair. (9/10)
The vibes are immaculate; the story not so much. This is a lean two-hour-long 6/10 that’s begging to become a plump and juicy two-and-a-half-hour 9/10.
That said, when the Four are heading to space in their sleek pulp-futuristic retro rocket ship, and the Human Torch gets smitten with the Silver Surfer… there’s a lot i can overlook. A good half of these points are just down to swish art direction and a triumphant score: (6½/10)